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Part 20


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#1 Guest_Flarn_*

Posted 19 September 2004 - 07:12 AM

Alyndria went down to the bar and ordered Viconia's food, scanning the room as she did so, looking for Khalid. It took her some time to find him, and for several frightened heartbeats she feared he had disappeared just like Minsc.

But no, there he was, at a table in a dark corner, a tankard of ale sitting untouched in front of him.

The order was going to take awhile, and she debated going to talk to him, and then wondered whether her intrusion would be welcome. /He doesn't need you mothering him like a hen with one chick,/ remarked a nasty voice inside her head. /He needs to be left alone with his sorrow, not hounded by the one who caused it./

/It wasn't me, it was Irenicus! They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time./

/The wrong place indeed: with you./

She sighed and leaned against the bar.

"My lady, you seem troubled..." Scorch remarked, with a chirrup and a nuzzle against her cheek.

"I guess I am... I'm a terrible leader, who else would invite people into the group who don't belong."

"You mean the dark elf lady?" the pseudodragon asked. "If she doesn't belong with you, and she didn't belong with the people who were going to burn her, where does she belong?"

"I wish I knew."

Suddenly Scorch hissed and took flight from her shoulder, hovering malignantly in the air.

"Ahhh...hello, my dear lady. You do look so...delicious...that the mere thought of wrapping my tongue around you enflames my mind with feelings of desire..." The silken, sickly sweet voice drew her out of her contemplation, and she looked around, spying a red-headed man of elvish descent staring adoringly in her direction.

She looked behind her to see who he was looking at, but, finding no one, looked back at the stranger. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"My name is Salvanas di Riyos, and all I want is to be entwined by your arms in the embrace of sweet passion for a fortnight..." He ducked as Scorch made a swoop at his head, and a mini billow of dragonflame shot past his ear.

"Erhhhm," Alyndria cleared her throat and tried not to laugh at her familiar's antics. "Alright, that's enough. Now go away."

"It saddens me, but if it must be so, I shall worship my goddess from afar! Farewell, my goddess!" With an overly unctuous bow, the slimy man moved off to another corner where he began leering subtly at the tavern wenches.

She glanced towards Khalid and saw he was looking at her. He gave her a hesitant smile and then looked down again, sipping at his ale.

He didn't look angry as she might have expected, and she decided to at least try to apologise.

The walk across the bar seemed interminable, and the sounds of the bar seemed melt into an incoherent drone around her, leaving nothing but the sound of her booted feet on the dry planked floor, and the leathery flap of Scorch's wings as he kept pace with her. Finally she reached the table and stood looking down at her companion. It reminded her of the few occasions she had been called upon by Gorion to explain some youthful misdemeanor.

"Khalid, I - "

"Please sit down," he said, offering her another friendly smile, and indicating a chair. Conversely his kindness was not doing much for her guilty conscience.

Alyndria complied, perching nervously on the edge of the seat. Scorch, meanwhile, had no such compunctions, and landed boldly on the table to investigate Khalid, his ale - which earned a sniff of disgust from the creature - and the remnants of someone else's meal, which he slurped up happily. Though his playfulness warmed her heart, it did nothing to ease it. She turned her gaze back to Khalid. "I wanted to say I'm sorry... About Viconia... I didn't think she would be so..."

"Confrontational?" A slight raising of one slanted dark brow accompanied the stuttered word, and Khalid took a drink from his ale.

"Well... yes..."

He shrugged lightly, and Alyndria was struck by how calmly he was reacting - not at all what she was prepared for after what she had seen in his eyes upstairs. "Viconia has always been confrontational, you know that. I was expecting it."

"But the hurtful things she said - "

"It is what Drow do, I'm told. Insulting people, is the same for them as asking about the weather - they are adept at finding and exploiting people's weaknesses. Though Viconia's rudeness touched on personal topics, I know that coming from one such as her it was not a personal slight, it is simply her way..." Khalid's tone was even and patient, like a teacher instructing a student, like Gorion's had been when he explained some of the more difficult facts of the world to her as she discovered them, growing up. "She has been raised not to trust anyone, and she is in a place where everyone hates her, possibly more than anyone ever hated her at home in the Underdark. You can well imagine that she must feel very insecure right now, Alyndria."

She struggled to understand what he was saying. Khalid had always been the voice of level-headed reason, but the last thing she was expecting was for him to continue under these circumstances. Alyndria herself had been prepared to say a few choice words in her Jaheira's defence, but - remembering what Khalid had told her in Irenicus' dungeon - had left it to him. As Jaheira's husband, he had the most right of any of them. Yes, he'd had every reason to be angry and even to threaten the malicious Drow as he had, and yet now he was defending her? "But what you said... you sounded so... so..."

"She asked about the weather, and I told her it was raining." So flippantly he said it, well, as flippantly as could be with a stutter, and he took a deep draft from his ale. The situation felt so normal, so casual it was almost ludicrous - as if they themselves were talking about nothing more important then the weather. "As a Harper I have dealt with far worse."

Alyndria wanted to bang the table in frustration. She could see it now. He was shutting her out. "Yes," she persisted, "but in your... state..." Her eyes strayed to the hint of leather cord, just visible above a gap in his loosened armour, the cord that held Jaheira's wedding ring.

"Don't feel you must send her away on my account, Alyndria. I told you already I don't mind if she comes with us. I still mean that." Khalid gave her an indulgent smile that was somehow far more painful to behold than the grief she knew he was hiding. "I know you have reasons for wanting her as part of the group, and I... admire you for accepting her, most people would believe that there was no hope."

She sighed. "Most people are not children of the Lord of Murder, Khalid. I must believe there is hope for her if there is to be any hope for me."

In answer, Khalid just shook his head and patted her hand comfortingly. The touch felt strange and awkward to her, though he didn't seem to notice. "It also seems to me, that after being around nothing but humans for most of your life, you must want to get to know your elven half better, even the darker parts of it."

Now she stared at him in shock as he effortlessly peeled away another layer to her soul. "I..." Alyndria looked down at her hands, studying the magical rings adorning them again, a ring of protection, and a ring of Earth elemental control she hadn't yet had the opportunity to use. "How did you know?" she asked quietly. It was something she hadn't even realized herself, and yet now it seemed so... right.

"It is what I've felt too," said Khalid, almost reluctantly, some of the normality slipping away, revealing the wistfulness beneath that she knew only too well, that elusive quality that had drawn her from the first, made her want - need - to protect him, which was preposterous, of course, since Gorion had once intended him to be *her* guardian. "Humans are strong and noble," his voice softened dreamily, almost to a whisper, as if he were divulging a secret too powerful to be spoken aloud, "but elves are rare and magical, everything they do is..."

"...steeped in magic..." she replied, feeling a jolt of total understanding as she looked into his eyes.

"...and they are so beautiful," he finished. "Even the homeliest elf is far more beautiful than the most beautiful human." He sat back a little, awkwardly, as if coming out of a trance. "We half-elves are also said to be handsome folk," he continued more conversationally. "The elven beauty is - was - evident in Jaheira as it is in you, but I am so... well, plain would be the kindest way to put it. I don't know whatever happened with me." Khalid gave her shrug and a weak grin before taking another drink.

"Oh Khalid, no, you mustn't believe that," Alyndria hastened to say, seeing the warrior's downcast face. "You're just fine. More than fine. The best of both worlds..." Again she was caught by his eyes, the dark, ageless pools of mystery. Yes, he had enough of the elven magic, far more than he knew...

"Order up!" called the bartender.

Alyndria was startled out of her contemplation, and somewhat flustered by the duration of it. "Sorry, that's... I have to... the order..." Waving her hand, she hurried to the bar, grabbed Viconia's food, and fled upstairs, Scorch flapping behind her like a bat out of the Abyss.



Once Viconia had eaten, she immediately turned to her devotions, and began re-scribing her spells on some spare sheets of parchment Anomen found for her. Indeed the young squire was very solicitous of her needs, despite her earlier discourtesy.

Alyndria, meanwhile, was left with the task of trying to formulate her group. Experience had taught her that it was difficult, if not impossible, to easily guide and properly outfit more than six people at a time as a travelling party. Maybe others who were older and more experienced could manage a miniature army such as might have occurred if she had been able to take everyone who expressed an interest in joining her along on her travels, but she knew her limitations. So she was left to the task of deciding who most needed her protection.

They couldn't abandon Viconia, Khalid was right out of the question, Aerie seemed so lonely, Nalia had the Roenalls after her, and Alyndria had promised to protect her. That left Anomen and Yoshimo. Both grown men. Both capable of taking care of themselves.

They would need a rogue, of course, to open locks and watch for traps, but Nalia fulfilled that function adequately. So... Anomen or Yoshimo? Yoshimo was a Bounty Hunter, yes, but Viconia was a Drow and she didn't hold that against her either. Still, the Drow was open in her animosity - what was it Gorion had once said? Oh yes: "A barking dog won't bite - unless it's a dog with more than one head." The warrior of Kara-Tur, despite his somewhat poetic professions of loyalty, did not make her feel entirely comfortable. Meanwhile there was Anomen, who, by rights, she probably should not have liked. Still, she felt there was something about him, despite his arrogance, despite his sometimes ill-temper, there was something underneath it all, something that suggested that though he was tall and strong, though he was a fighting man of no mean experience, that maybe he needed a company of friends much more than he cared to admit.

"Yoshimo." Alyndria had only to speak his name, quietly, and yet he was there, by her side, his dark eyes searching her face earnestly. "I think we will have to part ways for a time. As you know, we're going to solve Lord Firkraag's problem, and because of the Beshaban incident, we need to make ourselves scarce... Of all of us, I suspect you may be the man with the best connections, and the most ability to hide in plain sight..."

He grasped her meaning immediately, and nodded. "Indeed, this is true Lady Alyndria. I... understand your reasons, and I respect them, but when you return to Athkatla, let's not be strangers, yes?"

"Somehow I doubt we could avoid you, Yoshimo. Thank you for serving the group so well."

She was surprised when he took her hand and placed a kiss on it, a little awkwardly, as if he knew this was the custom, and yet had never practiced it. And then he was gone.

By this time Viconia was resting, curled up in the bed.

Alyndria noticed that she had mounded the pillows down the middle, as if to make it possible for another to share this most comfortable sleeping surface, though no one seemed at all interested in this conciliatory gesture. Aerie was wedged into a corner, wrapped in her bedroll and drowsing fitfully, her hand on her mace, while Nalia studied her spellbook just beyond, as though keeping watch over the timid Avariel.

Anomen and Khalid had spread their bedding on the floor on the other side of the bed, and both seemed to be resting comfortably.

Alyndria studied the floor, but there was very little space left that she could call her own, unless one of her companions was in the mood for some closer companionship. And while she, Aerie, and Nalia had shared a bed in the past, the Avariel certainly was not pleased with her about Viconia and Alyndria doubted she would be welcoming.

That left the other half of the bed for her, then. So be it. It would be a good test of her faith.

Pulling out her scrolls, she immersed herself in the familiar solace of prayer and study.



Alyndria was the first to wake. She lay unmoving for a moment, looking around the room, noticing everyone else was still in their place. Their sudden awakening last night had taken a lot out of them, apparently, and she decided not to wake them. Not bothering with her armour, she pulled on her boots and straightened her gown - moss-green linen, with brown vines embroidered around the modest square neckline - another castoff of Nalia's which had once been quite fine. Normally she wore pants beneath it, treating it as a sort of long tunic, which she felt was more appropriate to her priestly station, but for the moment she enjoyed feeling somewhat less weighted down by layers. She patted her hair, assuring herself that it was still mostly in its two braids, or as much as it would every be, considering its wild, wavy disposition, then reminded herself firmly that as a priestess she had no need of vanity.

She left the room and started down the stairs, idly contemplating the concept of vanity, turning it over and over in her head as one might turn a honey drop over on the tongue, drawing out the sweetness. Vanity... Unbidden the image rose in her mind of how Anomen had looked at her last night, the strange awkwardness she had felt at seeing such admiration in another person's eyes, admiration directed at her person, for some strange reason. Durlyle had kissed her, once upon a time, on Balduran's forgotten isle, and Khalid had said she was beautiful - beautiful like Jaheira, but Anomen, he had looked at her like looking at her made him *feel* something.

Her face grew hot as she remembered what she had read in forbidden tomes back at Candlekeep, and the more important practical lessons that living in close quarters with a loving couple like Jaheira and Khalid had taught her. Despite her relative innocence, she had a good idea of what those feelings entailed. Desire.

As if the word had been a spell exploding, or an arrow flashing past her ear, she was suddenly galvanized, and fled down the stairs as quickly as she could, as if it were a beast that would catch her in it's jaws and never let go. It was not the time to be thinking of such things, if the gods ordained...

She rubbed her shoulder absently, and then brought her head up as she realized she was missing something, or someone. Scorch! She had left him sleeping on her pillow, and if he awoke without her he might decide to bait Anomen again. Although the pseudodragon had been well-behaved since his abortive drunken brawl with the Helmite priest, she didn't want to chance another encounter. /Oh yes, how could I have mistaken that lizard for anything other than a male,/ she thought with amused fondness. /He's as muscle-brained as they come./

Sure enough, as she climbed the stairs again, she could hear soft scratching coming from their room. She took out her key and was just about to turn it in the lock, when the door opened precipitously, and she was left bent over and addressing...

"Ahem!" she straightened blushing, to look at Anomen's face.

"Ah, my lady, I was just about to come see you."

With a squeak of indignation, Scorch whizzed past Anomen's head and perched on her shoulder.

"Your pet was most distraught on awakening and finding you gone."

"Yes, well, Scorch and I are still getting used to each other. As I said, he hasn't been my familiar for that long."

"In time my lady will be properly trained," chirped the dragon.

"Now, now, let us see who will be training whom," Alyndria said, giving the dragon a playful scowl. "What happened to 'Oooh, you are very kind my lady'?"

"You are kind," the dragon bumped her cheek. "Just forgetful."

"Scolded by a pseudodragon," Alyndria made a face. "Thank you, Anomen. I'll let you get back to sleep."

"Actually, my lady, I am quite refreshed. If you don't mind, perhaps you will allow me to escort you downstairs where we can break our fast without disturbing the others."

"If you'd like..." Hesitantly she took his proffered arm.

Once downstairs, Anomen insisted that he be the one to order their food, and made her sit at a table while he got them some bread and cheese and a couple of mugs of the Coronet's less than stellar tea. Ah well, at least it was wet.

She looked over the repast and realized Anomen was looking at her expectantly, not touching his food. He was a knight, he would not have poisoned it... Chivalry? Yes indeed, she realized, he was waiting for her to start eating. She tore off a chunk of her bread and took a bite.

Sure enough, that was the signal the squire had been waiting for, and he began his own meal as well. He was very careful and methodical, as if he dined at some noble's banquet instead of at an inn in the slums. She thought of Gorion with a bittersweet gratitude, he had ensured she would never embarrass herself with her manners, and for some reason that seemed most important just now. She told herself it was just because she didn't want to be outdone - one false move and Anomen would no doubt make some pithy remark about her provincial upbringing in the North. Ah vanity...

He waited until they had both eaten enough to take the immediate edge off their appetites before taking up his mug and giving her a thoughtful look. "How much do you know of my Order of the Most Radiant Heart?"

Alyndria sipped her tea. "Not very much, I'm afraid. The usual, I suppose - you're paladins, you have noble aspirations and contribute to the well-being and safety of the Realms."

Anomen nodded. "It is the greatest force for righteousness in Faerun...an army of knights and paladins ready to combat evil wherever it may be found.

We exist to serve, but we follow no commands yet those of our hearts and our conscience. 'Tis a rare thing that can stand up to the full array of the Order's armies, my lady."

"I could!" Scorch interjected, swooping down out of nowhere and interrupting their genteel banquet to steal a bite of bread.

Alyndria gave Anomen an apologetic look and carefully peeled away the part the dragon had bitten, tossing it in the air so Scorch could show off his aerial manoeuvres, snatching it in one gulp that puffed his cheeks like Boo after he went foraging for seeds.

"I do not understand why the Order does not take control of the Council, personally." Anomen went on. "It could do far more to turn this into a fair and equitable land, don't you think? I mean...think of all the suffering your average commoner must endure. The hunger, the inequity and injustices...the rebellions in the south. All things of chaos. Surely these things would not occur with the Order placed in command...a force of true goodness and honest brotherhood? It baffles me why more people don't see it." He looked at her for her thoughts on this matter, but it seemed to her he was already decided.

"I agree..." she said cautiously, "there is a lot more that the Order *could* do." As to whether it was wise of them to involve themselves in government was a matter she couldn't be sure of - politics, from what she had seen, had a way of corrupting even the most noble endeavours, but she couldn't fault him for his reasons for wanting the Order to become more active. Perhaps when she got to know him better she would clarify her position.

"Aye, you see the right of it, I think. It is something I shall keep in mind once I pass the Test... the Order must become more active beyond simply combating the most obvious evils."

Alyndria nodded. When he put it that way he made a lot more sense. His initial position seemed more extreme. She wondered if she had ever been like that, then shook her head. She couldn't afford extremes, they would eradicate any of the hope she so desperately clung to, that her Blood could be overcome, that she was not destined to become evil merely by her birth. A vision of Irenicus' unnaturally mobile, masked face rose in her mind and she shuddered deeply.

"My lady, are you well?"

"It's nothing, Anomen," Alyndria said, "just memories."




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